When I found out that I had drawn the Wyoming general elk tag again, I was super excited. Lately, I have been focused on elk hunting more than deer. Last year, I finally harvested my first bull and it was in Wyoming. He was a small raghorn and was very good eating. The reason for the excitement of getting the tag again was that while hunting last year I found a place where the elk live most of the season, a lot of elk! They rut there and can be found there even into late October. The number of antler rubs blew me away. It seemed every jack pine is thrashed! I found what I felt like was a super secret waterhole/wallow in the middle of this area. It is in a place that would not be obvious on a map and is not in a drainage. It is in the middle of black timber, and I could tell that last year it was well used. This year, I put two trail cameras on it and captured multiple bulls using the wallow along with deer and moose. A couple of the bulls coming in were pretty nice.
I also had an archery elk tag for Idaho and ended up hunting that unit for the first few days of the Wyoming archery season. I harvested a nice 6x6 in Idaho (my first archery bull) before I could make it to Wyoming. When I did, I went straight to my waterhole. I was a little deflated because there were a lot of hunters in the area, many more than last year. I still don’t know if anyone knows about the waterhole, but it seemed like the secret about that area was out. Unfortunately, within a few days, my little waterhole dried up. On my second trip, I hiked into the area in the dark and made it to a large meadow right at first light. I spotted a 5x5 and was trying to get into bow range when some other hunters hiked right through my stalk while scouting for their upcoming rifle hunt. I didn’t see any more elk that trip.
The next time I could make it back to the area was during the general rifle season. The type 1 rifle hunters had been hitting the area for two weeks. I had a certain peak I wanted to be glassing from at first light, so once again, I hiked almost two miles in the dark and got set up at first light. I only saw a few deer and no elk. Midday, I hiked further in to another glassing point. Being by myself, I didn’t want to get too deep knowing the pack out would be a killer, so I stayed there and glassed the afternoon away. Once again, I was disappointed. There were boot and horse tracks all over the area. I was fairly discouraged and figured that all the pressure would have pushed the elk away. At about 4:30, I heard a bugle behind me. The wind was perfect, so I crammed my gear back in my pack and started stalking toward the bugle. The bull only sounded off every 10 minutes or so, and I could tell he was moving. As I crept in and closed the distance, he went silent for a long time. When he bugled again, he had passed me! I circled back and tried to keep the wind good, but I never heard him bugle again.
I ended up back near my morning glassing point and decided to babysit the huge meadow in front of me for the evening. I hadn’t sat more than five minutes when I spotted a few cow elk stepping out into the opening. Out loud and to myself, I said, “Yes!” They were 1,000 yards away and the wind was steady in my face, so I boogied closer, keeping terrain and trees between us. I was hoping that there would be a bull following those cows. The best approach was through a dry creek bed that split the meadow north and south. As I got closer, I dropped my pack and left the gravel to sneak through short sage. I was on my hands and knees, but it was like crawling through cornflakes. The wind was still good, but the elk could hear me. They were all heads up on red alert and looking in my direction. They still couldn’t see or smell me, but I could tell that getting closer wasn’t going to happen. I poked my head up and over the sage and ranged them at 400 yards. I then got set up with my shooting sticks and dialed in my scope. The elk relaxed a bit and began to feed. I could see six cows, then seven, then eight. Suddenly, the bull materialized, and he was looking in my direction. I couldn’t believe my luck! I remained motionless, and he finally committed to grazing with his cows. He cautiously stepped out, and I almost touched off a round as he moved. I waited, and he walked right into the middle of the cows. I had no shot. For at least 10 minutes or more, he stood with his cows and surveyed the meadow. My hands were freezing. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to my right where another bull started raking a tree. I couldn’t see the other bull, but he had the attention of the elk in front of me. The bull in my crosshairs finally stepped away from his cows, and I squeezed the trigger. The round hit him in the pump house, and he ran a few steps and then stopped with his head hanging low. My second shot dropped him in his tracks. Once again, I said, “Yes!”
It turned out that my bull dropped only a few yards from the main trail into the area – the same trail with the myriad of boot and horseshoe prints. I learned that even with pressure some of the elk in that area hold tight and continue to live on the top of that little mountain. I owe a lot to Huntin’ Fool and the readers of the magazine for the rifle I was packing. I happened to win a story contest last year and have been using my Browning X-bolt in. 300 Win Mag with much success. Just this year, it got me a bear in Idaho, a bull elk in both Wyoming and Montana, and a mule deer in Montana, my biggest to date.
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